


Perfect Aim

by TheEmcee



Category: IT (Movies - Muschietti)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Complete, F/M, Not Beta Read, Not Canon Compliant, One Shot, POV Second Person, Pre-Relationship, Reader-Insert
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-06 09:35:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25967482
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheEmcee/pseuds/TheEmcee
Summary: On the first day of summer vacation, you take your bow and quiver down to the barrens for some target practice. You end up using it against a clown and end up saving Patrick Hockstetter's life.
Relationships: Patrick Hockstetter & Reader
Kudos: 14





	Perfect Aim

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters or the fandom.
> 
> A/N: So, I may have a thing for Patrick Hockstetter/Reader stories and, well, yeah. There needs to be more of them. Feel free to leave a comment in the towel section down below and enjoy!

~...~

Perfect Aim

~...~

The first thought you have when you woke up is that you haven't had the chance to practice your archery for a good while, and today would be the perfect day to do so. The sun was shining and there wasn't a cloud in sight. While it was a little weird that this sudden urge overpowered you as soon as you woke up, especially considering that you had no plans to venture down into the barrens today, you just went with it. It's not like you had plans that day and it'd be nice to practice again. Due to the curfew and your busy schedule during the school year, there hadn't been that much time to use your bow. But now that it was summer vacation you had plenty of time.

You gathered your bow and quiver, picked up your old bookbag, complete with first aid kit and bottled water, and left the house. It was a bit of a walk to the barrens but that didn't bother you. A little exercise never killed anyone and the heat wasn't too unbearable. 

When you finally made it to the barrens, you followed the trail for a little bit before breaking off and going to your usual area. You had been coming to this specific spot since you first got into archery and you hadn't been here since the curfew was instated. It was close to the water and there was a large sewage tunnel not too far from here. Not a lot of people hung around this particular spot; most of them used it to pass through to other parts of the barrens.

You drop your bag onto the ground and adjust your bow. Removing an arrow from your quiver, you go to town on a large, thick tree. It was your usual target here and there were numerous holes in the trunk from past practises. Even though it had been months since you last handled your bow, your aim was still on point and each arrow hit its mark perfectly. It was incredibly satisfying and you felt as though a part of you had returned or awoken. A strong peace settled over you and you breathed a sigh of relief, releasing all of the tension that had built up over the past few months. 

The next arrow you fired missed the tree completely, something that had never happened before, and it landed in the water. Cursing under your breath, you pick up your quiver, removed the arrows from the tree, and stalked to the water, annoyed. The stray arrow was flowing through the water rapidly and you noticed that it was heading towards the sewer tunnel down the way. You did your best to keep up with it and almost managed to grab it a couple times, but it always dodged your hand conveniently. 

It stopped just outside of the sewer tunnel and you grabbed it out if the water, swearing at it. Before you could put it in the quiver you heard a scream come from the tunnel. Whoever it was sounded terrified. Dread filled you and although you wanted to just turn tail and run, you did the exact opposite. You notched your arrow to your bow, lowered it just a bit, and entered the tunnel. Filthy water filled your shoes, soaking your socks and feet, but you paid little mind to the discomfort. The screams became urgent and as you followed them they became louder. 

You waded through the sewage, following the screams and shouts before you rounded a corner and came upon Patrick Hockstetter, blood on his face, holding some sort of crowbar or something, and facing down a clown? Fear caused your skin to prickle and you just knew that Hockstetter was in grave danger. Without a second thought, without hesitation, you raised your bow and fired your arrow. It pierced the clown's head, right through the mouth actually, but you paid little mind to that or to Hockstetter as you notched a second arrow and fired. This time, it went through the clown's right eye.

You continued firing arrow after arrow, giving the evil clown little to no time to react. It all happened in a few seconds, each arrow firing rapidly. It was like someone, or something, had possessed you and was controlling every move you made. A high pitched screeching sound erupted from the clown and it turned towards you. When it took a step in your direction, you fired an arrow directly into it's knee and it howled in pain. From behind it, Hockstetter brought the crowbar down on its head and the clown screeched. Growling, bleeding, and in obvious pain, the clown moved and ran fast, past Hockstetter and somehow squeezed through the bars of the closed off tunnel.

After watching it flee, you lowered your now and released the breath you had been holding. You were yourself again, in control of your body once more, and your hands were shaking. 

"Y/N?" Hockstetter's voice brought you out of your dad's and you looked up at him. 

He had a few cuts on his face that were bleeding. Blood was flowing from them and it stained his face. His clothes, hair, and body were wet, probably from falling in the water, but otherwise he looked okay and was in one piece. Covered in grime and blood, it was hard to tell for sure if he was okay and you sighed. Although you never liked the guy - you always thought he was a creep and an ass - you weren't going to leave him to his own devices as he was. Knowing Hockstetter and how funny the universe was, he'd fall over and die or something. Or worse; that clown could come back.

"Come on, Hockstetter," you said, grabbing his wrist with your free hand and pulling him along. 

He was taller and stronger than you but he followed you obediently and silently as you guided him through the tunnel. You didn't know how you knew the way out, you just did, and before long you were both standing the the rays of the sun. A splash in the water caught your attention and you saw a turtle wade in the water. Aside from that turtle, and whatever small woodland animals were hiding in the area, you were alone with Hockstetter. 

"I have a first aid kit in my bag," you told Hockstetter as you released his wrist. "Follow me and I'll clean you up; see what injuries you have."

"Why help me? I've haven't exactly been very nice you to," Hockstetter asked you as you began to walk back to your spot. You turned to him.

"Because you're hurt. I thought that'd be obvious," you replied. 

While you never liked him, you weren't about to let him go until you were satisfied that he was really okay. Ignoring an injured person, regardless of who it was, just wasn't in your DNA. If someone was hurt and you were capable of helping them, you did so. That was just who you were.

The two of you continued until you reached your spot. When you did, you bent down, placed your bow and quiver on the ground, and opened your bag. You'd have to get more arrows since you put quite a few in the clown and that annoyed you slightly. But still, it was worth it, right? After pulling out the first aid kit you turned to Hockstetter and nodded to a rock.

"Plant it, Hockstetter," you ordered. 

He did as he was told and his compliance was making you suspicious. Granted, whenever he was away from Bowers and his goons, Hockstetter was usually quiet and kept to himself. Though everyone believed he was insane, you included, he could come off as normal enough when he was on his own. That made him even creepier in your book.

"Call me Patrick," he said softly. 

"Okay. Patrick," you said as you opened the kit and pulled out some gauze and disinfectant. "This may sting. If it does, I'm sorry, but it's necessary. We don't want your cuts to get infected, do we?" 

You poured the disinfectant onto the gauze and began to clean his face. Occasionally, your eyes met his and you found that he was watching you intensely. He seemed deep in thought and didn't say anything as you cleaned him. Patrick barely even winced when you brushed the gauze over the cuts on his face. As you continued wiping away the blood, you couldn't help but notice him, really and truly notice him.

Patrick, although a weirdo and one of Bowers' buddies, had always been kinda cute, but it didn't hit you until just now how handsome he actually was. His eyes were quite beautiful and clear close up and his hair would probably be soft and silky if it were washed. As it was now, it was wet and even greasy and sticking together in some places with blood. There was nothing you could do to help his hair, but his face was coming along nicely. 

You smiled, satisfied at your work, once his face was completely clear of blood. The cuts on his forehead and the one on his left cheek didn't look deep enough to warrant stitches, but you were going to put average bandaids on them anyway to keep them clean. Reaching into your kit, you pulled out a few of them and peeled them before careful placing them over the cuts and smoothing them out. Once you were done you smiled again.

"There. Good as new, Patrick," you said. You collected your garbage and stuffed it into a pocket on your bag before closing the kit and putting it away. "I'd still go to the hospital if I were you. You never know what you could catch on those sewers." 

Patrick merely nodded and watched as you slung your bookbag over your shoulder before picking up your bow and quiver. You stopped moving when you noticed his gaze. Your eyes met his steadily and although you were unnerved by how intense his stare was, you refused to look away and backdown. If he was trying to intimidate you, it wasn't going to work. After a good minute of the staring contest, you broke the silence between the two of you.

"What?" you asked, a hint of annoyance to your question.

"You're just like me, Y/N," he answered, so quietly that it was almost as though he were talking to himself. Before you could ask him to elaborate, he continued. "I don't need to go to the hospital. I'm fine. But...would you like to go swimming at the quarry with me?"

That caught you off guard. Not only was he asking you to hang out but he was being nice about it. That was suspicious, but innocent until proven guilty, right?

"What about Bowers? Aren't you part of his posse?" you replied.

"I'm not an official gang member. I just tag along for my own amusement from time to time," Patrick said. 

Not the worst answer you could've gotten. It was getting hot and you did feel gross and disgusting from being in that sewer tunnel. What harm could it do to go swimming with the guy? Besides, if his bandaids fell off, he'd need replacements and you had plenty.

"Then sure. Why not?" you said. "But no funny business, Patrick. Or I'll stick you with am arrow." You pointed your bow at him and narrowed your eyes. He held up his hands with a laugh, a small smile on his face.

"No funny business! I swear," he retorted.

Satisfied, you walked with him away from your spot and out of the barrens to the quarry. This day was turning out to be very interesting.


End file.
